


Ben and the Living Dolls

by c00kie



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Corpse Desecration, Dark Magic, F/M, Ghosts, Historical Fantasy, Magic, Necromancy, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sick Child, Witchcraft, dead leslie, ghost leslie, grave robbing, living dolls, sexist undertones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 02:12:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9101791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/c00kie/pseuds/c00kie
Summary: On a crowded street in Pawnee there lived a doll maker who was unable to cope with is wife's death until he came up with the most unorthodox of solutions.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ashisfriendly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashisfriendly/gifts).



> A/N #1: TO Ash, Merry Christmas! You are my lucky star and I love you so very much. 
> 
> A/N #2: Please head the tags and warnings! It's okay not to read if none of this is your jam. If you have a question about a specific tag, my tumblr is c00kie28. I'll be happy to answer any questions. 
> 
> A/N #3: To those of you who do read, I really hope you enjoy. And also I'm very sorry in advance. I'll be posting a much happier fic for New Years. 
> 
> A/N #4: Thank you so very much, bookworm03, for all of your assistance. 
> 
> Kudos are great, comments are better.

Rain tapped against the window in Ben's workshop with growing insistence as he debated between the ivory and cream threads, comparing them to the cloth against his arm before throwing them back into the box, taking the alabaster instead. The rain was a constant now, so much so that Ben barely heard it, even as it came down like sheets and lightning cracked beside it, causing the sky to turn an eerie shade of green. The weather didn't matter much these days to Ben. If anything, he welcomed it, feeling it appropriate. His only complaint was the rain slowed down business, but it also meant he had more time to work, to create the dolls he sold in his shop and the rain would surely mean repairs, as many of them were unable to get wet without cracking. 

He threaded the needle, tying the knot tight, and sat on his stool in front of his work bench where his latest doll lay, waiting to be finished. 

The bell on the door chimed in the front of the store. Ben heard his assistant Andy greet the potential customer and turned back to his work. If he was needed, Andy would come get him. 

Still, Ben listened with one ear as he began to sew the soft cloth over the bones and wood that made his arms, occasionally pausing to make sure they were moving correctly. 

Ben heard Andy tell the customer to have a good day and the door chimed again, signaling the store was once again empty. 

Ben paused and reached over to pull the string next to the doll to call Andy to the back. He came immediately, with a cheerful, "Hey boss." 

"Who was that?"

"Mrs. Lerpiss, she needed another button for her son's suit."

"Did she want anything else?" Ben asked, now tying the last stitch on the arm. He took the time to asses his work. The stitch was seamless, perfectly blending in with the fabric.

"No," Andy said, leaning against the wall. "She did glance rather wistfully at the display case again, but she always does that." 

Ben hummed in agreement. "Did you finish the inventory?"

"Still working on it, boss."

Ben hummed again as he began to wrap the cloth over her other arm. "Very well."

Andy left the room, only to come back and ask, "Are we going to work tonight?"

"I will let you know," Ben answered after a moment of thought. 

"Okay, boss," Andy said, this time finally closing the door. 

Ben finished the arms, making sure the elbows had proper range of motion before he set one aside so he could attach the other to the doll's wooden torso. Once again he made sure the arm could move before he attached the next limb. 

Next came the legs. They, like his arms, were to be made of bone and wood and covered in alabaster cloth.  

Because every doll was different, how he made them depended entirely on the doll itself. Some were made head first, some from the feet up. Some were made with cloth or wood, others with composition or Porcelain. It was Ben's belief that the materials affected the doll's personality. A doll made mostly of wood was more likely to be jovial and mischievous, while a doll made of porcelain was often snobbish and emotionally and physically fragile. 

He would need to attach the hands and feet next, then the head. Some heads were made from old skulls, others from a mold. This particular doll's head was carved from wood by Ron Swanson, the woodworker who made the heads, chest and other wooden parts specifically for Ben in exchange for his wife's pie. 

But now that Leslie was gone, Ben would need to find something else to give Ron instead. 

Inside the doll's chest was a mechanism, not unlike a clock, that made the heart beat. It was this, some electricity and dark magic, that made the dolls come to life.  Similar in a lot of ways to necromancy, a practice long banned. 

Ben was down to his last two femurs. Enough for this doll but nothing else. Glancing around the room Ben noted he was low on a lot of parts. He sighed, placed them down on the table and walked over to the wall to pull the string to signal Andy. 

"Yeah boss?"

"Do you know when Tom and Jean are coming again?"

"I'll check," Andy said, taking a small black book out of his jacket pocket. He flipped through the pages until he found what he was looking for. "It says 2 am,Thursday."

Ben sighed. That was a day away. "Great." 

"You want me to send him a message, ask if they have anything sooner?"

"No," Ben said, "It's fine. As long as they come I'll need you to make more composition though."

"I'll do it now," Andy said, closing the book and putting it back in his pocket. "Are you okay boss?"

"I'm fine, Andy," Ben replied, giving his assistant a small smile. "Go back to work."

"Sure thing, boss." Andy closed the door and Ben went back to attaching the doll's hands.

He worked, putting the doll together piece by piece, listening as the door chimed and customers came in. Andy helped them all. Not once was Ben disturbed, giving him plenty of time to finish the doll. 

After he place the heart inside, Ben and Andy attached wires onto the heart and started a generator. While the best electricity was from nature itself, it was also the most dangerous. Ben prefered to use another power source, one he could actually rely on. He nodded to Andy, who turned the generator up. The wires crackled as the electricity coursed through them, all the way to the heart. It jumped, but did not start beating. 

"Higher," he instructed. He knew better than to start too high, otherwise the heart would cook. Slowly, they raised the amount of electricity and the heart began to beat. Ben then started the mechanism that would keep it beating after the wires were taken off, which he did next. 

Then he screwed the panel on his back and had Andy message the Newport's their doll was ready.

While they waited, Ben checked on Sebastian and Andy continued with the inventory. An hour later, Mr. Newport and his younger wife showed up, his son following behind with his own family. 

Ben rolled his eyes when they weren't looking but then instructed them to wait while he and Andy and took a silver knife and walked over to Mr. Newport. "Hold out your hand, I need your blood." 

The Newports all paled. "Is that necessary?" asked Mrs. Newport. "My husband is very old and-"

"It's to bond him to the family." 

"You can use mine." Nick Newport Jr. held out his hand and Ben shrugged. 

"Very well." he sliced the man's palm with the knife and turned it over so that the blood fell into a clay jar. As soon as their was enough, Ben bound the man's hand in gauze. "I am sure you feel dizzy, you may want to sit. Andy, give the man a cookie." 

Ben then took the pot and poured in honey and pomegranate seeds, stirring them together before brushing it across the doll's lips. 

They watched in fascination as the doll changed. No longer was the wooden doll with cloth for skin sitting in the chair, it was now occupied by a young man with dark hair and a handsome face. 

"Hi!" He looked at them, curious and unsure when they didn't respond. 

"Drink this," Ben told him, giving him the jar. 

"Okay!" he said, and began to drink. "It's sticky." 

"Introduce yourself," Ben said to the eldest Newport when the doll was done. "Tell him his name."

He coughed "I am Nick Newport Sr," he said, stepping up to him. "You are my son, Robert." 

The doll jumped up and hugged his father. "Great! Can I be called Bobby?"

"Uh, sure." It was clear Nick Newport didn't know how to feel about his new son. His wife though, put her hand on Bobby's back. 

"Come on, we'll get you some ice cream." 

"Great," Bobby said as they left, trailed after by the rest of his family, except for Mr. Newport. 

"Is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. Newport?" 

"No." He said after a minute "Is the price the same as we agreed?"

"Yes." 

"Very well." He handed a cheque already written out. Somehow Ben suspected he wasn't the one who wrote it, give how badly the man's hands shook. But Ben placed it in a locked drawer behind the counter and thanked the man for his business. 

 

At seven Andy came and told Ben he was taking off for the night. Like every night he invited Ben to his house for supper. 

"Thank you, Andy, but I really should get home to see Sebastian."

Andy nodded. "How's he doing?" 

Ben took off his smock and straightened his tie. In truth,he didn't know how his son was. The doctors had no answers, no solutions. All they could say was that he needed rest.

"Ann is with him,"Ben said eventually. "Come back at ten so we can work." 

After Andy left, Ben closed the shop, locking all the doors and windows. Then he walked up the stairs leading to the loft they called home. He found Sebastian sitting up in Ben's bed, his back supported by a pillow while Ann fed him soup. He had his own bed, but he hadn't slept in it for ages. 

"Hey, Ben."

"Ann," Ben replied, and she stood up, giving Ben the bowl. 

"I'll let you take over. There's more soup in the kitchen if you want it." As there were no walls in the space it only gave the artifice of privacy, but Ben was grateful for it. He sat beside Sebastian on the bed and began feeding him. Sebastian was slow to eat, as if every sip of the broth took too much effort. 

"Hi, papa," said Sebastian, sounding weaker than ever to Ben's ears. 

"Come on, Seb, you only have a little bit left to go, and then you can sleep." 

Sebastian didn't say yes or okay, he just continued to allow Ben to feed him until there was nothing left. 

"There you go," Ben said, kissing the top of his brown curls. "Now rest." 

Ben picked Sebastian's yarn doll from the floor, gave it to him and covered him up with the blanket, making sure his son was warm enough. Then, he walked over to the fire place and stoked the fire until the flames grew higher, reaching out to touch him. He stepped back so the fire was unable to scorch his skin. He knew Ann wanted to talk, but he really didn't want to talk to her. He was grateful for her, she was taking care of his son, she kept the house clean and both he and Sebastian fed. But there were things Ann didn't understand.  After Leslie's death, she was able to let her best friend go. 

Ben didn't have that luxury. 

"I think I should go now, since the rain has stopped." 

"Thank you, Ann," Ben said, still looking at the fire, remembering how Leslie would sit in her rocking chair and knit. But now the rocking chair sat abandoned in the corner, as well as Leslie's bag of yarn. 

It seemed Ann had more she wished to say, but Ben kept his eyes on the ashes created by the flames. 

"I have to be at the hospital tomorrow," said Ann,"but I'll come by before and after my shift."

Ben glanced at Sebastian, worried that he would need someone with him all through the day. Soon he would, if his condition didn't improve. Ben wanted to take his time and make sure every detail of Leslie's replacement was perfect. 

But now, seeing his son so ill, Ben wondered just how much time he really had. 

"That's fine," Ben said. 

"His medicine is in the cabinet,"Ann reminded Ben before taking her leave. "It's potent, so don't give him too much."

As soon as the door shut Ben went to the window to make sure Ann truly left. It wasn't until he saw her cross the street with her cloak over her head that he was satisfied.

Ben looked at the clock. It wasn't quite ten yet and Sebastian was still awake,so Ben settled in beside him.

"Tell me a story," Sebastian said, snuggling up to Ben's side. 

Ben ran his fingers through the boy's hair. "Okay." 

He took a sip of ale before starting. "Once there was a man and everywhere he went, a huge stormcloud followed, so he couldn't see the sun."

"That's awful."

"It was," Ben agreed. "All through this man's life, it just rained and rained. He tried moving town to town to get away from the cloud, but it followed him.  And the people in these towns hated the man for bringing the rain cloud with him and making the sun go away, so they drove him out."

"That's not fair," Sebastian said with a yawn. 

"No. But the man kept to himself and studied his craft-"

"What did he do?"

"He was a dollmaker."

"Like you!"

"That's right, just like me." Ben paused to take another drink. His hands shaking as he reached for the cup. 

"Papa?"

"Yes?"

"How did you become a dollmaker?" 

"Years of practice," Ben answered, thinking of the first doll he ever made when he was only ten. Henry was made of scraps of cloth and various things he found while searching the woods behind their house. Eight years later, Ben became an apprentice for a dollmaker in Minneapolis. "And lots of studying. You have to know a lot about both science and magic to be a good dollmaker." 

"Oh." Sebastian seemed satisfied by the answer. 

Ben glanced at the clock. It was now ten. "Okay," he said tucking his son in, "it's time for you to sleep. I will be right down stairs if you need me just pull the string and I'll come up."

"Promise?" 

"Pinky promise," said Ben just like Leslie used to. "Goodnight, Seb."

"Goodnight, Papa."

Ben blew out the candle next to the bed, checked the fire one more time and then slipped out the door, closing it carefully behind him. 

He found Andy in the back, sweeping. Ben nodded at him to continue and walked over to the shelf that contained his books on anatomy. He pulled one and a door opened to a spiral staircase going down into a pitch black space below. He turned to Andy. "When you're done, check on Sebastian, make sure he's still asleep. Then come down." 

"Sure thing, boss." 

The first thing Ben did when he reached the chamber was light the lamps, revealing a room that looked not unlike his workshop above. He could hear water rushing through the sewers next to the stone walls, but like the rain, Ben now ignored the sound. What he couldn't ignore though was Leslie, who was sitting on the bench next to the doll that looked like her. She was going to be made of bone and composition, with some cloth parts to add the whimsical and childlike nature he loved so much about her. 

"Hi, Ben." 

Ben stared at his wife- his dead- wife. He longed to kiss her, to hold her, but past attempts at doing so taught him he couldn't. It wasn't Leslie in the flesh and blood, but rather her spirit that sat on the bench. 

"How is Sebastian?" 

Ben didn't want to answer her question, fearing it would only distress her. "He misses you. You should go see him."

Leslie's ghost smiled and shook her head. "I can't. It- It hurts too much, not being able to touch him. Or you." 

Ben swallowed. "I know." 

Leslie sighed and looked down at her doll. "This though," she said, "will give me a second chance." 

A second chance. Ben considered those words as he sat down on his stool. That was all he needed. 

A second chance. 

Ben worked on Leslie for only two hours that night. The first hour was dedicated to choosing her eyes. They were made of glass, but the color had to be perfect. Andy joined him midway through the first hour, sitting down next to Ben as they sorted through the eyes. 

"How is Sebastian?" 

"Sleeping," Andy answered, picking up an azure colored eye. 

"Too light," said Ben, and Andy threw it back in the box. "Did you stoke the fire?"

"Yes." 

Ben sighed. "None of these are right. I'm going to have to go to the glass shop tomorrow." 

Andy said nothing, he simply waited for instructions. 

"Go work on the machine," Ben instructed and Andy hopped up and walked over to another table where all the pieces lay, waiting to be put together. Andy had a real knack for putting together the heart machine. Ben didn't know if this meant he would be a good dollmaker or a horologist, but it did mean he was indispensable to Ben. 

For the next hour, Ben began to cast and mold the composition. The bones in her body were not her own, they were from someone else, someone long forgotten if the aging was anything to go by. 

While Ben worked, Leslie sang. It was the same song she sang the first time she walked into his shop, claiming her curiosity had gotten the better of her, the same song she sang to get Sebastian to sleep as an infant. 

It used to bring him comfort, but tonight it only brought him heartache. He stood up, facing Andy who was sitting at another bench, making the system that would make her heart beat. 

"We're done for the night, Andy. I will see you in the morning."

"Are you sure, boss? I can stay and finish-"

"Goodnight, Andy." 

 

Andy stood up and wiped his hands on his pants. "Goodnight, boss." 

In the morning, Sebastian woke up with a fever. Ben ran a bath for him, gave him his medicine and washed the boy's hair and skin, all the while wishing Leslie was there to help. 

He needed to complete the doll. He couldn't let his memories or his heartache get in the way. He needed his wife. Sebastian needed his mother. 

Ben dressed Sebastian in a fresh pair of pajamas and placed him back in Ben's bed. His son smiled at him, but his eyes showed his pain. 

"Ann will be here in a few hours," Ben promised, getting in the bed beside Sebastian, who curled up next to him. It was almost time for the shop to open, but Ben made no effort to move. Andy could run the store until Ann arrived.

"Would you like me to tell you a story?"

"The dollmaker, papa," Sebastian requested, his voice as pale as his skin. 

Ben exhaled. "The dollmaker, right. Well, eventually the dollmaker ended up opening a shop in a small town, but a strange thing happened. Despite his curse, it never rained. Instead it was sunny, almost all of the time."

"Except for at night?" asked Sebastian. 

"Except for at night," Ben agreed. "And of course, he wondered why this was. The town was no different than anywhere else he had been. There was no evidence to suggest it was blessed. But he didn't have time to worry about the weather, as people wanted his dolls." 

"To be their friends?"

"Yes," Ben said, but before he could continue, Ann showed up. 

"His fever spiked," Ben said, going to her as she hung up her coat. "I gave him a bath and his medicine."

Ann nodded and went to feel Sebastian's forehead. "I'll call Dr. Harris." 

Ben hated Dr. Harris. He was abrupt, with no bedside manner to speak of, but he was the best physician in town. "Very well. I'll be in my workshop. Ring the bell when he gets here." 

The shop was dead quiet. Ben didn't even have the rain to keep him company, though he knew it was only a matter of time before it started again.

Now was as good a time as any to walk to the glass shop. He donned his coat and grabbed an umbrella out of the basket next to the door. "I'll be back in an hour. If Dr. Harris shows, send for me." 

"Sure thing, Boss," Andy replied, sitting on top of the cashier's counter. Ben thought about reprimanding him, or telling him to do something, but without more bones or clients, there was nothing to do. 

"Actually," Ben said after a moment's consideration, "go home for the hour."

Andy hopped off the counter, a huge grin on his face. "Are you sure?" 

"I'm sure," Ben said, smiling back slightly. Ann could send for him if Dr. Harris showed in the hour. 

Andy pushed back Ben and ran out the door, yelling, "Wife, I'm coming home!" 

In another lifetime, Ben would have chuckled, but not in this one. In this life, Ben had to look away, push down the jealousy and resentment and lock the shop's doors. The sky was littered with clouds, with barely a hint of sun and there was a chill in the air that made Ben wish he'd stayed inside, but he needed the right shade of blue for Leslie's eyes. 

"Did you hear?" A passer by said to her friend. "The Saperstein girl went bizerk last night. She started a fire nearly burned her mother up."

Ben's heart stopped for a moment but he continued on. He made Mona Lisa only a few months ago. She was the last doll he made before Leslie's death. 

On his way to the glass shop, Ben passed by Garry Gergich and his wife, Gayle, sitting outside the cafe. He tried to avoid eye contact, not wanting to make conversation, but Garry saw him. 

"Ben, Ben," he called, waving, giving Ben no choice to but to go over and say hello. 

"Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Gergich." 

Garry was a friend. He was a kind, clumsy man who loved his family, but generous in a way most men were not. And Gayle was quite possibly the most beautiful doll Ben ever created. Their children, two girls, were also of Ben's making. 

Again, Ben felt a pull of jealousy. 

"We're glad to see you," Gayle said, touching Ben's arm. He ignored it, keeping his focus on Garry. "We were just talking about how we want another daughter." 

"Another daughter?" 

"Yes," Garry said as Gayle wiped the mayo off his cheek. "We love our Millie and Miriam so much that we thought why not have another?"

Ben glanced over at Millicent and Miriam, who were playing in a puddle. "You're going to want to bring them in," he noted Gayle's hands, which were cracked. "You too." 

"Oh geez," Garry said, a blush covering his face. "I'm sorry, I'll bring them in right away."

Ben nodded. "Very well. And when you come in we'll discuss your new daughter."

The bell chimed on the door of the glass shop. Rows and rows of boxes full of every color and shape of glass. The owner, Mrs. Porter, came out from the back, her eyes raking over Ben in judgement. Then, a smile. 

"Mr. Wyatt, how good it is to see you."

"Mrs. Porter. Doing well, I see?" 

"You know me," she said, stroking her own hair. "What can I help you with today?"

"I am in need of a pair of eyes. Blue, if you have it."

Anabel laughed. "Oh, well you know I have plenty of those. In fact, let me show you my special collection." 

Ben raised his eyebrow, hoping she wasn't flirting with him, but she merely turned and walked toward the back, gesturing for him to follow. Surely she knew better than to proposition him. 

She was unlocking a china cabinet, no doubt made by Ron or a pigmy tribe from the Amazon. Mrs. Porter always liked to claim her belongings were from the most exotic of places. 

She also liked to claim her husband died after his ship was attacked by pirates and not of dysentery, which was the actual case, so Ben always took what she said with a grain of salt. 

However, the box of glass eyes she showed him were some of the most beautiful in the world. 

"These are made from real jewels," he said in amazement. Most glass eyes were merely painted. 

"I told you they were special." 

Ben picked up a sapphire eye and examined it, all the while thinking of Leslie's eyes. It was milk white with a black pupil made of onyx and a sapphire iris. It was not a perfect match, but he could search the world far and wide and never find anything that was a truly perfect match. But these were close enough. Only someone as obsessed with Leslie as he was would know the difference. 

"How much for the pair?"

"A thousand and five." 

Ben dropped them back into the box. He couldn't afford that. Anabel laughed, placing her hand on Ben's chest. "Mr. Wyatt, do you want these eyes or not?" 

Ben closed his eyes and thought of his ill son. He needed his mother. "Yes, but it's too much." 

Anabel stepped closer. "I'm sure you and I can find an arrangement." 

Ben walked out of the glass shop feeling sick but clutching a box containing the pair of sapphire eyes. As he walked back to the shop, he told himself it was for the greater good. The ends would justify the means. But that did not appease his aching heart. 

"Forgive me," he whispered into the air as he opened the door, finding Andy in the corner, his eyes big and face pale as his hands shook in front of him. 

In front of him was Ron, holding his doll Tammy by her shirt as she screamed obscenities at him and everyone else in the room. 

Ben sighed. "Again, Mr. Swanson?"

This was the second of Ron's dolls that had turned murderous The first tried to smother him in his sleep. She'd been tossed, which meant things like her hair and eyes were taken to be reused and the rest of her was thrown into a fire. 

"Yes," Ron said, mustache trembling. "It appears so." 

Tammy turned her head. "You!" She lunged for Ben this time 

"Hold her down," Ben yelled at Ron and Andy, who struggled to keep Tammy on the floor while Ben found the necessary items he needed to take away her life. Ron took a knife from his own pocket and cut his palm, grimacing as squeezed his hand so the blood would flow into a stone bowl. Ben then mixed in the gunpowder and belladona and poured it down her throat. Within a minute, she fell to the floor, her porcelain face cracked. 

"Take her to the back," Ben instructed Andy. He handed him the box from Anabel's glass store. "And this." 

"Sure thing, boss." 

Ben wiped the bloody mixture off his hands as he faced Ron."I'll repair her right-"

"That won't be necessary," Ron said. "Toss her."

"Are you sure?" Ben couldn't lose Ron as a customer or a supplier. "Ron-"

"She's more trouble than she's worth. They all are." And with that, Ron walked out the door the, bell chiming behind him. 

"You want me to toss her, boss?"

"No. Take her downstairs." Ben wanted to know what was wrong with Tammy that she would become violent. Andy nodded and carried her toward the back. 

"Ben." 

He spun at Ann's voice. How long had she been standing there? Had she witnessed the whole thing?

"Dr. Harris is here." 

"Right." Ben followed her up the stairs to the living quarters where the doctor was leaning over Sebastian.

"He just came," Ann whispered. Ben said nothing in return, watching as the doctor examined his son. Eventually the doctor turned. 

"A word, Mr. Wyatt, nurse." 

Out of the corner of his eye, Ben sees Ann bristle at being referred to as nothing more than, nurse, but she doesn't comment as they follow the doctor out into the hallway. 

"Is my son dying?"

Dr. Harris ignored the question, pulling a bottle out of his bag. "Give this to him no more than three times a day."

"I asked you a question, doctor."

"Ben," Ann said, her voice soft. 

"To be honest, Mr. Wyatt, I don't know. Your son has been ill for some time now, and shows no signs of improvement, but he also shows no signs of getting worse." 

"No signs of getting worse?" Ben asked through his teeth. "He's burning up."

"That's a good thing, Mr. Wyatt," said Dr. Harris as he closed his bag. Then he left without another word. 

"He's right, you know." Ann squeezed his shoulder and left. Ben just went back into the room and washed the scent of Mrs. Porter and gunpowder off his skin. Then, he went down to his workshop and turned Tammy onto her back so he could open her up to take out the heart. It was black in spots, blood red in others. He pondered why and went to his books, trying to ascertain when and where he had purchased her heart. Tom was always secretive about where he got them, and Ben never asked any questions, but given this and the tantrum thrown by Mona Lisa, he wondered if he should. Out of curiosity, he compared the ledgers for both dolls and discovered they were sold to him on the same month the year before. 

He put the heart in a jar and went back upstairs, where he and Sebastian ate supper and slept until Ben heard familiar signing and the sound of a horse's hooves on the cobblestone streets below the window. He quickly dressed and went downstairs to the shop to find Andy helping Tom and Jean pull the crates off the cart and carry them into Ben's workshop. Andy grabbed the crowbar and opened them, revealing the bones inside. Ben picked them up at random. They would need to be sorted. "Andy, start on this," he said, going back to Tom. 

"I have a question about the hearts." 

Tom shook his head, his lips curled up a cocky smirk."Ahh, you know I can't give away my source." 

"It's of utter importance." Ben took a step forward, making Tom jump back. Ben took another step. "Where did you get the hearts?"

"Ahh, okay fine.I get them from all over." 

"The ones you sold to me in April of last year." 

"I don't know! I have to look it up!" He pulled a  small leather bound calendar from his pocket and began to flip through it. "I got it from Brett and Harris. They work at the morgue over at um-" his eyes grew big. "The prison." 

The prison. The hearts Ben were using from criminals. How many other hearts from the prison had he used? What if they all turned violent like Tammy or Mona Lisa? What if this got around and people refused to buy from his store? He would be out of business. His son- 

Sebastian would surely die if Ben could not afford his medicine or doctor calls. 

Ben shook his head. "Where are these from?" He asked, gesturing to the final crate. 

Tom quickly looked. "The asylum." 

"The what?" he yelled, not caring if anyone heard him. He was going to kill Tom with his bare hands.

"I'm kidding," Tom laughed, joined in by Jean and Andy, the latter having no idea why. "We uh, got them ourselves. From the graveyard." 

A sharp pain spread behind Ben's eyes. He tossed some money at him and told them to go. As the two men started to leave he noticed Jean Ralphio's pinky finger had fallen off. 

"Come on," he gestured, despite his headache. "I'll fix that before you go." 

This was why he hated porcelain. 

Ben sent Andy home and sorted through the bones until the morning, occasionally taking breaks to check on Sebastian. It was tiring, lonely work, made even lonelier by the fact Leslie was there, asking when he was going to put her eyes in. 

"Tonight." 

  
  


Then he went upstairs to have supper with his son and Ann. They ate bread, cheese and sausages in silence, until Sebastian began to cough. Ben carried him back to the bed and gave him the new medicine while Ann cleaned up. Within minutes, Sebastian was sleeping on Ben's arm. He laid him on the pillow and covered him with the blanket. He sat with him for a few minutes, watching him breathe." 

Ann's hand touched Ben's shoulder. "Ben." 

He turned to her, wishing she would take her hand away. 

"I know it's hard-"

"Hard?" Ben said, choking on the word. "You know nothing-"

"I do. She was my best friend," Ann said, wiping her eyes. "And I loved her just as much as you." 

Ben could not hear another word- another lie- come from her mouth. Ann knew nothing about loss. She had no idea how hard it was, to know he could also lose his son, and be left with nothing. That his wife's ghost was there. He closed his eyes, counting in his head until he was calm. The last thing Ben wanted to do was chase Ann out of their lives.

He needed her to take care of Sebastian. If only for a little while longer. 

"If you say so," Ben said, turning away from her again. "I will see you tomorrow."

"Ben." 

"Leave." 

She did and Ben fell onto the bed next to Sebastian's feet. He stared out into the room, not looking at anything in particular, his eyes glazing over. It wasn't long until he could feel Leslie, watching him from the corner. It was like she was waiting. 

Slowly, Ben stood up, checked to make sure Sebastian was still asleep and then he went down to his secret chamber. 

He stayed there until morning, working on Leslie until she was nearly complete. Everything about her was almost perfect, from her sapphire eyes to her pink lips and soft blonde curls. 

"She looks just like me." 

Ben stood up. There was only one more thing he needed. 

 

Upon his return to his living quarters, Ben found Sebastian sitting in the bed, playing with his rag doll. "Morning, papa."

"Good morning, Seb," Ben returned, his heart jumping for joy at his son's smile. He walked over and felt him. He was still warm, but not as hot as he was. "What would you like for breakfast?"

"Waffles?" Sebastian asked, his face hopeful. They hadn't eaten waffles since Leslie died. 

"Sure," Ben answered, and he began searching for the waffle iron. A while later, they ate, Sebastian now feeling strong enough to feed himself. 

Ben couldn't feel happy yet. His son may have felt better today but there was nothing to say he wouldn't be miserable again tomorrow. 

There were always good days, made to make you feel hopeful. 

"I want to go outside today." 

Ben pointed at the rain streaked window. "I don't think that's an option. But if you think you feel up to it, you can come downstairs for awhile." 

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." 

They dressed and went to down to Ben's shop, where Sebastian hugged Andy and then climbed up onto one the stools in Ben's workshop and watched Ben as he began attaching the hair onto another doll. 

"Papa?"

"Yeah?"

"What happened to the dollmaker?" 

Ben stopped stitching. "Oh, well, one day a woman came into his shop and he discovered that wherever she went, the sun followed. And her sun was more more powerful than his rain cloud." 

"Did they fall in love?" 

Ben closed his eyes. He thought of how Leslie and he would argue for days over whether dolls should have rights and if what he did as amoral and wicked. He thought of their first kiss underneath the mistletoe at the Gergich's Christmas party and the moment she told him he was going to be a father. He thought of dancing with her every night, kissing her every morning. 

"They did." 

"And they lived happily ever after?"

Ben smiled at his son, despite his desire to say no, there was no such thing as a happily ever after. But Leslie would forever hate him if he did. "Of course." 

"I miss mama." 

It was the first time since her death Sebastian had spoken about Leslie. Ben swallowed and agreed, reaching out to grab his son's hand. 

"What if I told you I could bring her back?" 

Sebastian's brown eyes widened, a smile covering his face. "Really?"

Ben brushed the hair out of Sebastian's eyes. "Of course." 

"Sorry to interrupt," Ann said from the doorway. Ben shrugged and didn't watch as Sebastian went to hug her. 

"Well, I see you're doing better." 

Sebastian grinned. "I'm going to get Peter," he announced. 

"Be careful going up the stairs!" Ben shouted after him. Then, he turned to Ann. "Is there something you need?"

"No," she said, with a shake of her head as if she was shaking off a thought. "Just let me know if you need anything, okay?" 

"Alright," Ben said, reaching for the glue. He felt her watching him for a moment, as if she was trying to read his mind, but he continued to ignore her. Soon, Leslie would be returned to them and their family would be complete once again. Not even Ann could stop that. 

"You should be nicer to her, she was my best friend." 

Ben sighed. "I know. I'm sorry. I just-" he looked over at his wife's ghost. "You died and she just moved on. She went on a date with Chris the next day."

"And when was the last time you spoke to him?"

Sebastian came back into the room, holding his doll and a piece of bread. Ben shook his head at Leslie but did not answer. It had been some time since he'd spoken to Chris. 

"Well, you shouldn't blame him, or Ann," she said, watching Seb play on the floor. "All you have to do is bring me back."  Then she was gone. 

Ben pulled the bell and Andy came in from the front. "Yeah boss?"

"I need you and April to come tonight. Bring a shovel."

"Sure thing boss, I'll send her a message now." 

The day continued. Ben worked on the doll while Sebastian played with Peter or helped Ben, picking out various colors of threads. At closing, Ben and Sebastian went back upstairs to the living quarters. 

"Rest," he told his son. "I'll start supper." 

An hour later, Andy and April showed. April was wearing all black and a large hat with a crow stuffed inside and carrying a large book. "Good evening," he said as he took their coats. April glared back at him and walked straight to Sebastian, who smiled and asked April if the crow on her hat was real. 

"The shovel's downstairs, boss," Andy whispered in Ben's ear. "Are you sure you want to go tonight?"

The rain was coming down hard tonight. "We have no choice," he said in a low tone. "And April understands she's to stay with Sebastian?"

"Of course. She even bought a book to read." 

Ben glanced at the book. "The Manual of Demonic Magic?" 

"It's no worse than what you do," April countered. 

Ben shrugged, feeling she was probably right.  He finished supper and they ate, Sebastian eating more than he had in months, and without help. They drank wine and ale and told jokes and Andy sang them a song. 

It felt like before. 

But soon it was time for Sebastian to sleep and for Ben and Andy to go. "If he wakes up with a fever or a cough, give him the medicine in the blue bottle."

"What if he throws up frogs?"

"Well,I imagine you can take care of that." 

 

He and Andy walked to the graveyard in silence, the rain punching their skin. They carried nothing but shovels and an unlit lamp, though Ben feared they would have no use for it. The wind howled at every turn, and it was all he could do to keep the chill from settling into his bones. When they reached the graveyard Ben stopped. The last time he was here was when they put Leslie in the ground. 

"Boss?"

Ben wiped his eyes, grateful now for the rain. 

"I'm sorry," he said to Andy, whose face was more than likely beginning to crack."I'll fix you in the morning."

"I don't mind, boss. I can't feel it. Or anything really." 

"Nothing?" Ben asked as they came to the cemetery gates. T

"I know I love April. And I know I like working for you. But I don't know if I feel." 

Not knowing how to respond, Ben said, "Come on, it's this way." 

They walked through the weaving path, around the black tomb that held Reverend Luther Howell, toward the pond. There, near the oak tree, was the grave that read, "Leslie Barbara Knope- Wyatt, loving wife and mother." 

"Let's go." 

They dug, the ground nothing more than mud, until they reached the coffin down below. Ben jumped into the hole, telling Andy to stay above and to keep a look out. 

Then he said a prayer and used the shovel to break the locks. After, he pushed the lid open. 

He stared at the body. Leslie's body. He didn't think about the state of decomposition or the smell which was thankfully being hidden by the rain. He only  took his knife from his boot, peeled her dress down so he could see her chest and yelled. 

There was a stitch across her chest where her heart should be. Fresh, done after death if Ben was correct. Still, he covered his mouth and nose and made the cut. 

The rain and wind could not calm Ben's rage. "It's gone," he shouted, the knife slicing his own palm. "Why is it gone?" 

"Boss?"

Ben slammed the lid down and reached for Andy's hand. He pulled him up, though it took several tries. He kicked the lamp away. It was useless. 

"Her heart is gone," Ben yelled, both to be heard and because his anger was too great "Did you know?" 

"Of course not, boss!"

Ben believed him. Andy was nothing but loyal. 

He stared at the coffin. Someone took Leslie's heart, the one thing he needed to bring Leslie back to him. 

He knew exactly who it was. 

"Go to the shop" Ben told Andy, giving him the shovels. 

"Where are you going?" Andy asked, following Ben as they trudged through the wet grass. 

Ben did not answer him.

 

Ben ran into Ann's house. "Where is it?" 

Ann sat down her book and stood from her chair. "Is that blood on your hand? Ben- let me bandage-"

"I know you have her heart," said Ben as he looked around her parlour for anything the heart could be in. A box, a jar, anything. The mud was already drying on his skin. He did not care about his palm. 

"Oh." She sighed. "I really hoped you weren't going to-"

"To what?" Ben asked, walking through her house, opening every cabinet, every drawer. "Not bring my wife back?"

"Yes." Ann closed the cabinets. "I know you think you're doing the right thing, but don't you see I'm trying to help you?"

"By denying me my wife-"

"It won't be your wife!" Ann shouted. "It won't be Leslie. It will just be this shell made up of spare parts. Sure it'll look like her and it may even sound like her, but it won't be her."

"It will be her. I know it. She told me herself." 

"When is the last time you slept?" Ann asked, her voice full of pity. Ben refused to answer. Days? Weeks? Did it even matter? "Do you really think Leslie would want this? You of all people know it takes more than just a heart to make a real person. And what if you make her and she turns out like Tammy or Mona Lisa?" What if she tries to hurt Sebastian?"

"Those were bad hearts," Ben said. They were in the sitting room now. It was always Leslie's favorite room of Ann's house, where they would sit and talk while they ate pastries. If the heart was anywhere, it was in this room. "Leslie's will be pure."

He laughed. "Why am I explaining this to you? You never understood my craft." 

"No, I understood it perfectly," said Ann. "I just think the dead should stay dead." 

"Even if it meant bringing your dearest friend back?" 

"Especially then." 

Ben stopped, his eyes drawn to a silver box on the mantle. "Really?" he asked as he took it. It needed a key to open. "Then you must not have loved her as much as you claim." 

Ann crossed her arms over her chest. Ben did not miss the glittering of amethyst on her finger or the way her belly looked a bit thicker in her dressing gown. "I think I loved her more. And don't ask, I'm not going to give you the key." 

Ben considered the box. It would be simple enough to open. "I don't need it." 

"Please-" She called after him as he walked through her house to the front She begged him to reconsider, but the choice had been made. 

He stopped just as he reached the door. "I suppose congratulations are in order." 

Her hand went to her stomach. "Thank you." 

Ben gave her a short nod and closed the door behind himself. 

 

When he got home, the first thing Ben did was give Andy the heart. "Take this, start the generator. I will be down shortly." 

Andy took the box with reverence and ran. Ben grabbed everything he needed, the bowl, the pomegranate, the honey.  Then, he ran upstairs to where April was reading by candlelight and Sebastian was asleep. 

April wisely said nothing as Ben took a clean knife from the kitchen and walked over to the bed, waking Sebastian up. 

"Papa?"

"I need just a drop of your blood," said Ben. "It's for mommy." 

Sebastian closed his eyes and Ben pricked his finger with the knife, squeezing the boy's skin until blood fell into the bowl. 

"There we go," said Ben, kissing Sebastian's forehead. "Now go back to sleep. Have April tell you a story." 

Sebastian smiled at her. "Can you tell me the one about the blood orphans again?"

Ben shook his head but left them, going down to his chamber. Andy had opened the box without difficulty, the heart was in place, the generator on. 

"Begin at two." 

Andy did as he was told. With each turn of the knob, Leslie's heart began to beat just a little bit more. All they needed was a steady, consistent rhythm. 

At full power, her heart began to beat. Ben started the machine, watched the gears rotated, pumping the muscle. 

He quickly stitched Leslie's back up and turned her over. Then, he mixed the ingredients, including his own blood. After, he brushed it across her lips and waited. 

It did not take long for her eyes to open, for her body to take shape. She was alive now. She sat up, smiling. Ben stared at her in wonder. Everything about her was perfect. Almost. He couldn't put his finger on it, but there was something different about her than what he remembered. In the end though, Ben did not care. Leslie was there. 

"Hello." 

"Hello," Ben said, giving her the liquid to drink. "Your name is Leslie." 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
